


Bleeding Out For You

by KassandraScarlett



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Divergence - Episode: s10e23 My Brother's Keeper, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Hurt No Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassandraScarlett/pseuds/KassandraScarlett
Summary: Dean has a scythe in his hands. HIs brother is kneeling before him, awaiting his own death with resignation and forgiveness. Dean can't feel anything though. And that was the final proof needed: he was a monster and there was no going back.OR:Dean kills Sam instead of Death in the s10 finale.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 55





	Bleeding Out For You

**Author's Note:**

> Canon is being mutilated, so forget that s11 ever happened.
> 
> This was actually supposed to be the start of a longer story, but... Couldn't really map out the plot the way I wanted to, so, you get a one-shot instead XD

Sam was on the ground. Dean could finish this now, _had_ to finish it. He drew his arm back, ready to deliver another blow, ready to keep going until his brother’s chest was caved in and his face was an unrecognizable mess of blood and flesh and Dean would finally be free to leave, to never hurt anyone-

“Stop,” Sam whispered, the protest strained and defeated.

Dean’s thoughts ground to a halt. He paused, catching his breath, refusing to feel even the slightest nugget of warmth or regret through the Mark-induced bloodlust that was clouding his mind.

“You’re right,” Sam panted. “You’re right, you… You have to be stopped. Before you hurt someone else.”

Poetic, really, that Sam only gave up on Dean's _goodness_ after getting beat up by him. 

Sam spat blood out of his mouth, then looked up at Dean with blazing conviction. “But you will never,” he half-growled. “Hear me say, that you- the _real_ you- is anything but good.”

Or maybe not then.

Still, the words cut through the haze and Dean blinked, unable to hold Sam’s gaze.

Sam looked down at the ground, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile. “Do it,” he permitted. Because that’s what he was doing! He was giving Dean permission to kill him; he was making sure he was dying on his own terms, as far as possible. Typical Sam, standing his ground even in the face of Death.

And damn if that wasn’t one of the things Dean loved best about him. Or, had loved, maybe. He couldn’t feel much right now, hadn’t for weeks.

“Do it,” Sam repeated, quieter now. He shifted to his knees, kneeling in front of Dean like this was an execution.

Dean, unsure now, looked back at Death. The Horseman extended a hand, holding out a long scythe. The sign of the Grim Reaper. Dean took it and a jolt of power shot through him immediately, like electricity.

His thoughts were clearer, suddenly. He looked back at Sam and felt a pang of sadness. “Close your eyes,” he requested, voice as soft as it could be.

Sam didn't react, just stared back with those goddamn eyes that had always been Dean’s weakness. But not anymore.

“Sammy, close your eyes.” He sounded like he was begging now, and maybe he was, because he didn’t want to drag this out, didn’t want Sam to suffer any more than required. After all, the whole point of this was that they would be finally at peace, where neither of them could hurt anyone.

Sam’s breath visibly stuttered. He twitched, like he wanted to move, wanted to _do something,_ because passivity went against his very nature _._ But he just gave a tremorous smile and a nod, as a tear rolled down his cheek. His eyes closed. 

Dean didn’t give himself time to think. The Mark was singing gleefully on his arm, Death’s presence was almost tangible, and the scythe was a weight he couldn’t carry for much longer- he swung.

The blade passed clean through Sam’s neck. Sam’s body crumpled to the ground. Dean dropped the scythe. The silence was suddenly deafening.

Death knelt near Sam’s body, blocking Dean’s view. When he stood back up, he was carrying a bright blue orb, small but so luminescent that it hurt to look at a little. 

Dean wasn’t looking at that. He was staring at Sam’s stillness. Sam had never been still in life. There was a rush of blood in Dean’s ears, the beating of his heart too loud and too slow. Too calm. Sam was dead. Sam was dead because Dean had killed him and now his own apathy was making his skin crawl. Because if he couldn’t even feel any emotion towards his little brother’s death, then-

The Mark burned. It stung, harsh and angry, the pain so great that Dean couldn’t hold back a yell, dropping to a crouch. 

Death was saying something, but it was inaudible through the crackling of electricity, the malicious magic that was weaving through Dean’s skin. And all Dean could think was that Sam had admitted to not having found any solution, any way to remove the Mark. Had he been lying?

Then it all stopped. The pain was gone, the fog from his mind was lifted. Dean opened his eyes, breathing heavily. The Mark was still there. But it looked dull now, more like a healing wound than the oldest curse. “What the hell?” Dean asked, more surprised than anything and wasn’t that a wonder? He hadn’t felt anything other than anger for so long that he’d forgotten what it felt like. He turned to Death, intending to repeat his question.

Death was still holding Sam’s soul.

Sam.

A sharp cry of “No!” escaped Dean. Scrambling, half-crawling, he reached the prone body on the floor. “No, no, no, Sam. Sammy.” 

There wasn’t a single drop of blood on Sam’s neck, nothing to show that there had been a scythe sliced through it. But his skin was growing cold, his eyelids still, and his face bore evidence of Dean’s fists. The same evidence that was smeared pink across Dean’s knuckles.

“No, Sam, Sam, please,” Dean pleaded. There was a tearing ache in his chest, a gaping emptiness where Sam was supposed to be. “Please, please, come on. Come on, hey, wake up, wake up, Sammy, please.”

“The curse has been fulfilled,” Death’s voice was somber, flat and regal as always. “You brought it full circle when you took your brother’s life.”

“No,” Dean moaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he gathered Sam into his arms. “No, please, bring him back.” He looked back up at Death. “Bring him back, please, I’m begging you. Bring him back and do whatever you want to me, just…”

“I can’t.” Death sounded almost kind now. “To do so would be to revive the curse. You would be back where you started and the threat of the Darkness would-”

“I DON”T CARE!” Dean screamed. 

Death paused, annoyance flickering across his face. He looked down at the soul in his hands. “The Mark will remain on your arm. It will grant you immortality, and shall remain a lock and key to the Darkness, but otherwise dormant. Unless you are fatally wounded, which will turn you into a demon again. Or, if you pass it on to someone else, at which point, you will begin to age.”

Dean was barely listening, face buried in Sam’s hair, shaking his head in helpless denial.

“Sam’s soul belongs in Heaven,” Death went on. “He would be at peace, surrounded by memories of your time together.”

Dean just whimpered. All he could hear was that Sam would be in Heaven and Dean would live forever; they would never see each other again, not even in an afterlife. Dean was alone. Till the end of time, probably.

And a small, solemn part of him quietly thought, _This is my fault. I deserve this._

Death disappeared; Dean couldn’t be bothered to look up or move from his spot. He only hugged Sam closer, unable to stop the tears from slipping through as he pressed an empty kiss to a cold mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Sammy,” he whispered brokenly. Something crinkled in Sam's jacket and, rummaging with a careful hand, he found two photographs of himself and mom… And a brass amulet. 

His sobs renewed. “Sammy…”

**Author's Note:**

> My Tumblr: kassyscarlett


End file.
